


Illusions

by Dellessa



Series: Night Cycle Verse [6]
Category: Transformers Animated (2007), Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Attempted Rape, Blood Drinking, Character Death, Grooming, M/M, Mech Preg, Murder, Spark Sex, Sparklings, Sticky Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 02:08:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/pseuds/Dellessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The young noble had caught Smokescreen’s optic two vorns ago, by chance. He could not imagine that the mechlet’s caretakers would have normally let him out during the dark cycle. Smokescreen could only surmise that the little mech had snuck out to play in the large walled garden that surrounded his family's estate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Illusions

**Title:** Illusions  
 **Verse:** G1 AU with bits of Animated.  
 **Series:** Night Cycle Verse  
 **Rating:** M  
 **Warnings/Content:** Character Death. Vampires. Blood play. Sparklings. Allusions to mech preg. Sticky sex. Spark sex. Grooming. Violence. Character Death. Atempted Rape.  
 **Pairings/Characters:** Mirage/Smokescreen  
 **Notes:** Not mine!!! Set concurrently to Tangled.  
 **Prompt:** How they met.  
 **Words:** 12596  
  
The young noble had caught Smokescreen’s optic two vorns ago, by chance. He could not imagine that the mechlet’s caretakers would have normally let him out during the dark cycle. Smokescreen could only surmise that the little mech had snuck out to play in the large walled garden that surrounded his family's estate.  
  
Had he been more of a monster than he was, Smokescreen would have snatched the mechling away, and spirited him down to the citadel far beneath the city, but he couldn’t bear to do it. He had seen the mistakes his brother had made, and how conflicted Bluestreak had become. It was the last thing he wanted, and yet it was a temptation. It was a distraction. He had no regrets before from robbing the rich blind. It filled their coffers, and Prowl was not one to complain about such things. Smokescreen had thought Illudere House was a good mark. The truth was far from it. Their wealth was little more than a veneer. One the head of their house hoped to keep up until their second born was of age. He had been shocked when he had rifled through the correspondence, unravelling all of their plans and secrets in his processor. They planned to sell this happy, little mechlet to the highest bidder as soon as they could do so. He wouldn’t have been surprised if they would have done so now had they thought they could get away with it.  
  
For now though, he could not deny the mechling what little happiness he might have. He watched the mechling chase after allspark bugs, gathering them in a jar, and laughing as the mecha-insects lit up, blinking.   

 

OoOoOoOoOo

  
He had never meant for the mechling to see him. He was not even sure why he thought it would be a good idea to tuck little trinkets and presents under the mechlet’s pillow, but once he started he could not seem to help himself. He had left a datapad the first time full of sparkling tales he had loved when he was a sparkling, and had watched the nights that followed as Mirage made his way through the datapad, reading far past the time he should have been in recharge.     
  
For all that the mechlet lived in seeming luxury, he had few possessions, and fewer toys. The only ones that Smokey had seen him play with were obviously homemade ones that the servants had made for the mechlet. A painstakingly sewn mesh mecha-bear made out of scraps of material seemed to be the mechlets favourite. He hid it away in his subspace when he knew his creators were near, and it pained Smokescreen to watch them try to take away what little sparklinghood their creation had.  It was one such nightcycle that the mechling awoke as he was tucking the plush animal under the sparkling’s arm.  
  
Mirage watched Smokescreen with large gold optics. “You are the one that keeps saving him.” He whispered, grabbing Smokescreen’s hand when the mech would have fled. He smiled, breaking Smokescreen’s spark. “Are you a guardian spirit? Like in the datapad I read?” The gold optics widened still further, “You left me the datapad too, didn’t you?” He threw his arms around Smokescreen’s neck before he could even react.  
  
“I am,” Smokescreen said, stiff in the mechling’s arms before he finally relaxed and hugged him back. “I will always protect you.”    
  
Mirage pulled away, and beamed at him, “Would you read to me? My creators never will. They are very busy.”  
  
Smokescreen vented, tucking the mechlet back under the soft mesh he pulled of out the datapad, and read until the little mech drifted off into recharge.

 

OoOoOoOoOo

  
They continued on, Smokescreen did not make it every night, but he made with when he could. Mirage believed him to be some sort of imaginary friend, and Smokescreen did nothing to dissuade him of that notion.  
  
He could not help but be angry over the situation. Mirage had so very little, and just shone under any attention Smokescreen gave him. He watched the house and its denizens enough to know how much Mirage’s creators fawned over their first born, Tracks. The other mechling was given the best of everything, and made to feel as though he was entitled to all of the nice things, while Mirage was only given cast-offs. Some sols it was all Smokescreen could do not to rip out their intakes and sparks while they were in recharge.    
  
“Smokey? What’s wrong?” the blue mechling asked, crawling up into his lap. He was growing so fast, too fast for Smokescreen’s comfort. He hugged the mechling to him, letting the anger drain from his field. “Nothing, sweetspark, I am just glad you are here with me.”  
  
“I’m glad you’re here too. I love you, Smokey,” Mirage murmured, curling against Smokescreen. “I wish you could be with me all the time. I wish I had friends. I’m so lonely, and Tracks...Tracks said he hated me. He said they were going to send me away.”  
  
“I won’t let them do that,” Smokescreen said, “I will keep you safe. Do you trust me to do that?”  
  
“I trust you, Smokey, I know you will always keep me safe,” Mirage smiled up at him, “I forgot to tell you, I’m going to be gone for a few sols. I’m getting upgraded, a bit early I guess.”  
  
Smokescreen frowned at the news, “I will be here when you get back, I promise.”  
  
Only...  
  
He was not.

 

OoOoOoOoOo

  
He had not expected Prowl to send him away the next night cycle. Certainly not to Tarn, and under deep cover. On one servo, he could understand his brother’s concern over Shockwave. The mech still held a grudge over the death of his sire, Xaaron. On the other hand, Smokescreen was more than a little concerned with Mirage’s safety. He had not expected the mechling to get his youngling upgrade so soon. He would be one upgrade away from a teenbot, and bondable at that point. It was going far too fast. He vented softly inside, and turned his attention back to Shockwave. He could not afford to be distracted, not now.  
  
He did his best to keep his processor on the task, moving through the compound like a ghost. He used the electro-disruptor to move about Shockwave’s base unhindered, but it still kept him on his peds more than a little scared at discovery. He still had not found out the information that Prowl had sent him for, a cure to the zombieism that Shockwave inflicted on mechs. In truth, Smokescreen did not believe there WAS a cure. He had seen what Shockwave had done to mechs and he could not imagine that it was remotely reversible. There was no fixing a destroyed processor, not unless it was a complete wipe of the mech and its memories. He knew that was not what his brother wanted to hear. He had been here well over a metacycle, he would have left sooner had Shockwave not had a visitor. That was out of the ordinary, but the mech in question had mentioned Mirage’s house, that was enough to finally peak Smokescreen’s interest.    
  
What he said after that froze the energon in Smokescreen’s lines.  
  
“Master, it has been a long time,” the green and purple mech greeted Shockwave, a smirk on his lip-plates.  
  
“Hook, I was not expecting you,” Shockwave was as cold as he always was, hardly a surprise to Smokescreen.  
  
“No, I don’t imagine you were. You remember my project. I finally have the perfect spark for it. Or...I will,” his lips curled into a horrible smile. “Illudere House auctioned off their youngest. Funny how the high fall. I barely beat out Swindle. The piece of scrap was going to whore the bot out. I think the only reason they ended up rejecting his offer was because they were afraid it would get out where little Mirage ended up. I will bring him here before I extract his spark. I was hoping you could help me install that slave code. I want him to spark at the earliest time possible. Whether he wants to or not. I will not tolerate him thwarting me in that.”  
  
Shockwave nodded appreciatively. “I can arrange that yes.”  
  
It was all Smokescreen could do not to purge his tank, caught somewhere between horror and rage.

 

OoOoOoOoOo

  
It wasn’t difficult to follow the mech home when he left. What he found there made Smokescreen even more worried than he had been before. Lord Hook was far from a pleasant mech, and he learned well from his mentor, Shockwave. Smokescreen stood down in the lab deep within the mech’s stronghold in Tarn. The frame the mech had constructed from the frames of his previous consorts lay stretched out on a medical berth. Its lifeless optics stared up at the ceiling. Five mechs had been offlined to make this monstrosity, and the mech planned to take Mirage as well. He had deemed him the perfect spark to fill the frame. The thought nearly sent Smokescreen into a rage, but he made himself stay calm and think. It made him wish that he had obeyed his first impulse and stole the sparkling away, but what was done was done, he could only fix what was happening now. He wasted little time heading back to Praxus.

 

OoOoOoOoOo

  
Mirage looked out the window feeling forlorn. Things had seemed to get worse by the day since his protector disappeared. At times he wondered if he was really out of his processor and had imagined it all. But he could not imagine his spark would hurt so badly if that were true. Gone were the days he could sneak out to the garden, or do anything that made him remotely happy. No, after he received his upgrade he was made to understand the way of things in no uncertain terms. Had they not needed him to get back some of their fortune he would have been tossed out, his carrier had stressed. He had never been wanted. Was not loved as Tracks was.  
  
He was told over and over again that he owed everything to his house. It was his responsibility to keep their good name, and honor. He curled up on his berth, hugging the stuffed mecha-bear to his chestplates. As much as he hurt mentally the physical hurt was worse. Being taught what his bonded would expect of him was demeaning at best. His arms hurt, sensors still firing from where they had been bound behind his back for hours, tied and prone. It was still better than the days the instructor his creators brought in brought out the flails and whips, making him learn the parts and how to wield them before they scored his plating. He could still feel half healed marks across his back and thighs from the session the sol before.    
  
The first night they had locked him in the room, he had thrown himself against the door until he had knocked himself offline. He had cried when they had taken his few possession away, including the datapads that Smokescreen had given to him. He had not been prepared for the slap across the cheekplates, or his carrier accusing him of stealing the datapads. Or to be thrown back in the room and locked away without energon for two sols. His tank had rumbled painfully when they had finally let him out once more.  
  
“Why did you leave me, Smokescreen? You promised you would protect me.” He hugged the mecha-bear tighter, and finally let himself drift off into recharge.

 

OoOoOoOoOo

Smokescreen turned off the elector-disruptor that had kept him hidden much of the beginning of the night cycle when the bots were still moving through the manor. Even from here he could see the marks on Mirage’s frame, the lack of possessions, even a mesh. The mechling he left was gone. He was not sure what was left in his place, but he could tell the teenbot was hurting. His spark nearly broke when he heard what Mirage had whispered, he had nearly revealed himself.  
  
He scooped the mechling up, reaching out to his processor he pushed the mech into a deeper recharge and turned the electro-disruptor back on, navigating through the manor and into the dark beyond. He did not relax until he was finally stepping down into the depths of Prowl’s citadel under the city. He could not imagine that his brother would be pleased at all. He could not find it in his spark to care. At that moment all he could care about was making sure Mirage was safe. He finally turned on the electro-disruptor when he arrived in his own suite of rooms. He went inside, setting Mirage carefully on the berth before comm’ing Knock Out.  
  
::What do you want? Wait...I didn’t even know you were back,:: Knock Out’s exasperation was clear in his tone even over the comm.  
  
::I need you to look at something. Some burns...from a...ah...energon whip.::  
  
::What have you---::  
  
::Just get over to my rooms,:: Smokescreen said in exasperation.  
  
He settled Mirage on the berth as he waited for Knockout, examined the burns, they were worse than he had initially thought, he carefully removed the armour to see the marks on the protoform underneath. There were far more marks that he could see from the outside, in various states of healing. The more he looked at it the hotter the raged burned in his spark. If he had his way he would destroy Mirage’s house, and all of its denizens as well.  
  
Knock Out came in without even pinging, but stopped in the doorway. “Who is that?”  
  
“Doesn’t matter, fix him,” Smokescreen snapped, running out of patience.  
  
“You know how Prowl feels about bringing home strays,” Knock Out shrugged, and began to look over the teenbot. “The frag, what happened to the youngling?” He frowned, finding burns on the protoform around the joints where he had been tied up with something.  
  
“His family, I fear,” Smokescreen growled.  
  
Knock Out gave him a sidelong glance and then nodded. “I see. Well, make sure he has some nanite gel on the wounds, they should heal without leaving a scar. Twice a sol,” he pushed the tube at Smokescreen before getting up and taking his leave.  
  
Smokescreen tucked the mesh around the small mech and watched Mirage for a long time as he recharged, debating whether he should wake him or not.  
  
Mirage took the choice away from him, his optics onlining with a dull glow. he looked about, confused for a few kliks before his gaze settled on Smokescreen. His optics widened and he sat up suddenly. “Smokey? You’re real? Where am I?” He edged away from the Praxian, pulling the meshes against him as if to use them as a shield. “What is going on?”  
  
“I---if I had known they would do this to you I never would have left you with them,” Smokescreen said pulling the little mech into his lap, mesh and all. “I worried about you the entire time I was gone.”  
  
“You...I can’t be here. I’m supposed to be bonded in a deca-cycle, after my upgrade,” he struggled against Smokescreen’s grasp. “If I don’t my family will be ruined, you must take me back.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“I can’t dishonor them. It is all I have, it is all I am worth,” Mirage whimpered, falling against Smokescreen’s chestplates.  
  
“I can’t let you go to him. Your---Hook isn’t what you think he is. He will kill you,” Smokescreen growled, “He...does horrible things to mechs. Hate me if you want but I will not allow him to get his hands on you, or your spark.”  
  
Mirage gave him a intractable look. “You cannot stop me from leaving.”  
  
“I can and I will,” Smokescreen said, “Even if I have to bond with you myself.”  
  
“Smokey, please don’t do this. Please. My house will be ruined, they will blame me for this,” Mirage said evenly, his tone becoming pleading at the end.   
  
“I am sorry, Mirage, I care far too much for you to let you sacrifice yourself for those...monsters. But...if it will ease your spark I will pay them the price Hook would have paid. It is the last thing in all of Cybertron that I want to do, but I will humour you in this.”  
  
“W-what about my upgrade?”  
  
“I will arrange it. Don’t worry,” Smokescreen said, petting a soothing hand down the blue chassis. “I will fix this, I promise.”  
  
“You shouldn’t make promises, Smokey, especially if you---” Mirage looked away, caught somewhere between hurt and anger. “You left me alone. You promised you would protect me.”    
  
“Not a mistake I will ever make again,” Smokescreen whispered.  
‘  
“You need to take me back home,” he whimpered.    
  
“You are home.” He sat Mirage back onto the berth, tucked, him back in. “Go back to recharge,” he finally said, making it a command as he touched the youngling’s processor, putting him into a deep recharge despite himself.     
  
Smokescreen sat back, frowning for a moment, knowing he needed to talk to Prowl, and dreading the conversation to come.

 

OoOoOoOoOo

  
Smokescreen made his way to the medbay, he needed to talk to Knock Out about Mirage as much as he wanted to avoid Prowl. “Knock Out?” he said as he walked into the medbay.  
  
The red bot rolled his optics, “I was expecting you. You want to talk about your little friend I assume?”    
  
“How soon can you get him in here for his final upgrade?”  
  
“I’m going to need a few solar cycles, honestly. He’s going to need more protoform than I have cultured. And minerals. His previous upgrades were substandard at best. It’s a wonder his armour didn’t go brittle. His growth was stunted, and I’m afraid that isn’t something than can be corrected at this point. But I can make sure he has stronger armour.”  
  
Smokescreen nodded, not entirely surprised by anything that he heard, he had suspected as much. “I want the best for him. How long will it take for his spark to settle after the upgrade?”  
  
Knock Out gave him a sidelong glance, “At least a deca-cycle.”  
  
“It would be safe to bond then?” Smokescreen asked.  
  
“Bond with whom, why are you even here, Smokescreen?” an angry voice asked from behind them.     
  
Smokescreen flinched, “It’s good to see you too, brother.”     
  
“Why are you even here? You are supposed to be spying on Shockwave,” his optics narrowed dangerously, “And whose upgrades are you discussing?” his gaze moved from Smokescreen to Knock Out and back. “It would not have anything to do with that missing noblebot, would it?”  
  
Smokescreen flinched again. “It has everything to do with him. I’m not taking him back, his bonded was going to offline him. He is a protege of Shockwave’s.” He straightened his strut and glared back, “If you don’t let me keep him, don’t expect me to stay here, or ever help you again.”    
  
Prowl raised a browplate, it was very unlike Smokescreen to make such demands. “Fine, I will allow it this time.” He shrugged, it was only something he could use as leverage anyway.  
  
“I will expect you in my office in a groon, Knock Out. I need to discuss Bluestreak’s upgrades as well.” He turned, not waiting for an answer as he swept out of the room.     
  
Smokescreen growled, and glared at his brother’s back. “Insufferable, I suppose he is still making the poor mechling wait?” he shook his head.  
  
“As far as I can tell, it’s not like we gossip over energon,” Knock Out snorted.  
  
Sometimes he really wondered about his brother. “Just comm me when you are ready for Mirage.”  
  
He stalked out the door, missing the way Knock Out rolled his optics. “You are far more alike than you even imagine.”

 

OoOoOoOoOo

  
Mirage was still in recharge when Smokescreen returned, the mecha-bear held tightly in his arms. It broke Smokescreen’s spark all over again.  
  
He curled up on the other side of the berth, watching Mirage until he slipped into recharge himself.  

 

OoOoOoOoOo

  
“Mirage?” Smokescreen’s voice nudged the blue mechling out of recharge. “I’m leaving to see your creators, you may go anywhere in the citadel, but you may not leave,” he said making it a command the mechling would have little choice but to follow.  
  
Mirage whined, “Please don’t hurt them.”    
  
It only made Smokescreen sigh, “I will not hurt them, I merely want to have a chat with them.” He smoothed a hand down Mirage’s faceplates, looking the mechling in the optics. “They will be paid, and they will have no more contact with you.”  
  
“Fine,” Mirage said looking down at the mecha-bear he was still holding in his hands.  
  
“Don’t look so gloomy, brightspark, Knock Out should have what he needs soon to get your upgrade. It will work out,” he stood, finally leaving Mirage on his own.    
  
Mirage sad on the berth for a long time, staring at the doorway to the sitting room, and the door to the hallway beyond.  
  
It was well over a groon before he gathered up his courage enough to cross the room and slip out the door. He tucked the mecha-bear, Hugs, in his subspace and cautiously walked down the hallway.  
  
The hall was huge, the ceiling high enough for even a convoy mech or the largest of shuttle formers. It was also long, a great hall opened up to one side after he had walked for a breen, the hallway continued on beyond it, a smaller dining area beyond the great hall, he peeked inside, optics widening as he spotted a Praxian that looked much like Smokey. His colours were all wrong though, and a smaller Praxian sat on his lap, leaning back against him. Mirage frowned, feeling more than faintly uncomfortable at the sight. He gasped when the white Praxian took the other’s wrist to his mouth, biting it.  
  
He made a little gasping noise before he caught himself, and nearly gasped again as the mech’s red eyes settled on him. He backed away, running down the hall. His spark pounding in his chest, and a horrible realization blooming in his processor.  
  
Smokey was like that other mech, he had no doubt. Suddenly all the little clues added up. He couldn’t bring himself to be scared though, Smokescreen had more than ample chance to hurt him and never did. Or maybe he was just waiting until Mirage grew up. A little whimper escaped his vocalizer. He didn’t want to be somebot’s fuel.  
  
He scurried down the hall, pushing in to the first large door he came to, and froze in the entryway. His optics widened as he took in the walls, upon walls covered in datapads. They rose high up, Walkways and stairways hugging the walls. Normally he would have been overjoyed at such a sight, as it was it looked like a good place to hide. He wound his way through the maze of shelves that made up the bottom floor, until he found a little alcove where two shelves met. It was just big enough for him to fit into. A tight squeeze, but not one that he would be easily pulled out of.  
  
He curled inside, pulling out his stuffed bear, hugging it tightly he eventually drifted off into a light recharge.  
  
He was jostled out of recharge nearly a joor later, by a grumbling sound outside the alcove. He could see Smokescreen at its opening, reaching for him, but far too big to fit inside.  
“Mirage,” the mech sounded exasperated. “What are you doing in there? Come out.” He made another swipe, just barely missing Mirage’s ped.  
  
“No, you’ll drain me dry.” Mirage said, pressing himself back as far as he could. “I don’t want to be your meal.”  
  
Smokescreen sat back, blinking at the little mech for a long moment. “I don’t know who put that thought in your processor, but I would never do that.” He hummed, and just as suddenly Mirage felt a pressure in his processor, and found himself crawling out of the alcove against his will.  
  
He whimpered, which turned into full-fledged crying when Smokescreen grabbed him. “No, don’t eat me!”  
  
“Silly, mechling,” Smokescreen chided, hugging him close. “I wouldn't hurt you like that. What would even give you such an idea?” he asked, petting Mirage’s plating.    
  
“I saw a bot like you and he...he...” Mirage shuddered against Smokescreen.  
  
“Ah...that would be Bluestreak and Prowl. Prowl would never hurt Blue. Half the time the mech is the one that offers. It feels good, I’ve been told.”     
  
“Lies,” Mirage said stubbornly. “You are going to drain me dry.”  
  
Smokescreen laughed, “I might nibble on you a bit, but never that, brightspark.” He nuzzled into the mechling, half tempted to do just that. “I would not do anything you would not like.” He heaved a sigh, lifting himself to his feet and sweeping the blue mechling into his arms, “And regrettably, nothing now. Knock Out has been waiting for us for groons, and I cannot imagine he is happy about it.”  
  
“He’s...what?” Mirage wiggled in his arms, trying to find a comfortable position.  
  
“He got the supplies he needed for your upgrade much faster than he thought.” He plucked the bear from Mirage’s hands, sticking it in his own subspace for safe keeping. “It’s into the tank, my dearest.”  
  
That had been the last thing he had been expecting, it shocked him out of his worry for a moment. “So soon?” He glanced up at Smokescreen’s faceplates. “So you aren’t going to drain me dry? It would be a terrible waste of an upgrade if that is your plan.”  
  
Smokescreen barked a laugh, “That was never my plan, love.”  
  
Mirage relaxed against him, offlining his optics, “My carrier said they would have offlined me if they couldn’t sell me. It would have been a horrible waste of credits otherwise. Credits that could have gone to Tracks.”  
  
Smokescreen made a huffing noise. “I’m not surprised, they were a nasty bunch.”    
  
“Were?” Mirage trembled.  
  
“Don’t worry, your brother is set up. He has the credits that were promised for you. Granted, he is now an orphan, I am sorry, I could not allow them to live.”  
  
“You---how---how could you.” He whimpered, and tried to squirm out of Smokescreen’s hold.  
  
“As you say, I am a monster. But one that loves you. Your brother is better off. The mech that will be his guardian will straighten him out, I have little doubt. Trust me, I chose well. Ultra Magnus is a good mech, he will straighten Tracks out.” He stopped as they neared the medbay, hugging Mirage tight against him, nuzzling into his neck cording. “Please don’t be upset.”  
  
“You killed my creators.”  
  
“They would have killed you,” Smokescreen shot back, venting against Mirage’s neck.     
  
“It was with in their right to---”  
  
“Do not say that,” Smokescreen growled, his anger was palpable in his field. His fangs brushed against Mirage’s neck, it was the only warning he had before they sank in and his world dissolved into pleasure for one blinding moment. He clung to Smokescreen, but it was over nearly as fast as it started, leaving Mirage disoriented.  
  
He was still dazed as he was deposited in the medbay and Knock Out bustled about him, pushing him to the tank that would soon be filled with nanites. He climbed in, blinking up at the medic as an energon line was put in one arm, and the medic drew out a syringe, plunging it into his lines as well, and moment later into darkness as it took effect.

 

OoOoOoOoOo

  
Smokescreen looked at the tank, frowning at the opaque sides. Knock Out said it would be at least a decacycle before Mirage awoke, but he could not help but worry. Bluestreak had been put in his own tank for his upgrade after Mirage, and he was already out. Knock Out stressed that he would be in much longer because of the shoddy materials that had been used in his previous upgrades, still he could not help but worry, and become angry. He could not say he regretted offlining Mirage’s creators. He only wished that their suffering had lingered.  
  
“Hovering isn’t going to make him wake any sooner,” Knock Out snarked, sneaking up behind him.  
  
“What is it hurting?” Smokescreen said, watching the temperamental medic.  
  
“You are invading my space.”  
  
Smokescreen snickered, “You mean I am interrupting your polishing time.”  
  
Knock Out huffed, “That is beside the point.”    
  
Their argument was interrupted by a loud click of the CR tank opening. Smokescreen’s optics widened, and he turned around, hurrying back. He watched at the fluid drained away, and Mirage’s optics powered on, a low glow. He looked down, noting all of the changes. He had thought Mirage beautiful before, but he was just a pale shadow of what he had become.  
  
“Mirage?” Smokescreen offered his hand, helping the mech up to his still unsteady peds. He finally got the mech on the closest medical berth.  
  
“Just give him a moment to settle,” Knock Out said, already jacking in to check the mech’s systems. “Everything seems to be integrating well. It should be fine to get him cleaned up and taken to your rooms.” His optics narrowed, settling on Smokescreen. “No interfacing, no feeding. He needs rest and lots of energon as his systems settle and his spark finishes integrating. I mean it. You could do him lasting harm.”  
  
Smokescreen glared. “Fine. You make it sound like I planned to ravish him the moment I was out of your sight.”  
  
“Didn’t you?”  
  
“I hate you,” Smokescreen groused, waiting for Knockout to remove his cable from Mirage’s medical port before he scooped the mech up into his arms. In truth he had not gained much mass in his upgrade.  
  
“Hate me all you want, just don’t ruin my hard work,” Knock Out snarked back, smirking when Smokescreen was finally out of the medbay.

 

OoOoOoOoOo

  
“Where are you taking me?” Mirage asked, his head resting on Smokescreen’s shoulder as they walked down the hallway.  
  
“Washracks, and then recharge. You sound exhausted, love.”  
  
Mirage made a little humming noise, his optics offlining. “Recharge first? Please.”    
  
“I’m afraid not,” Smokescreen said. They were both smeared with the nanite solution. “We don’t want this stuff to dry. Trust me.”  
  
The blue mech didn’t protest when he was brought into Smokescreen’s private washrack, and gently pushed under the warm solvents. He closed his optics, letting his armour open, the solvents flowed through the gaps, washing away the nanite solution leaving his plating clean.  
  
He sighed, leaning against the wall, as Smokescreen washed off his plating, the microfiber gliding across the living metal until he was clean, and relaxed. He was more than halfway to recharge when he was pushed under the driers.  
  
Smokescreen picked him up again once he was dry, pulling him close. His lips nibbled across Mirage’s neck cording, fangs scraping. “Beautiful,” he pronounced. He smiled when he realized Mirage had finally succombed, his venting was deep and even as he fell into a deep recharge.  
  
Smokescreen tucked him in the berth once they reached Smokescreen’s room, and tucked Hugs in the mech’s arms. He watched him recharge before finally leaving to find his own rest.

 

OoOoOoOoOo

  
Mirage looked groggily at the insane mech who seemed intent on dragging him out of the berth. Knock Out tutted above him. “He didn’t even polish you. You look a mess.”  
  
Mirage looked at him blearily as he was pulled down the hall, and finally into the medbay.  
  
He was pushed at a large mech with an order of: “Clean him up.” Mirage glared balefully at the red faced mech, who looked like a big, lumbering version of his brother. He didn’t trust him, and liked it even less when he was pushed under the solvents, and scrubbed down until he was left sputtering.  
  
“What are you even doing?” he grumbled, stilled glaring when he was dried off, and the mech began to rub wax into his plating.  
  
“Cleaning you, polishing you. You should shine after we buff you. Bet Smokey will appreciate it,” the mech leered, and then laughed at the look that Mirage shot him.  
  
“Prickly little thing aren’t you?” Breakdown said, still grinning.  
  
“I don’t see the point. It’s not like anyone is going to see me. Smokey is just going to keep me hidden away and use me for food.” He had almost believed Smokescreen when he spouted those lies about love, almost.  
  
Breakdown snorted, “Doubt it. I’ve never seen him so helm over peds over someone.”  
  
“Lies,” Mirage pronounced, even as he relaxed into the mech’s touch. He worked out all of the kinks leaving Mirage a limp pile of mech.  
  
“Think what you want,” Breakdown said as he grabbed the buffer and started to work Mirage’s plating into a glossy shine. “I think the mech loves you.”  
  
Mirage only groaned, offlining his optics, and slowly fell back into recharge.  
  
A joor later he was still there, sprawled out on the medical berth and deep in recharge when Smokescreen came strolling in. “If you are going to kidnap my intended, Knock Out, I would appreciate at least a ransom note,” he tried to sound annoyed, but in truth his attention was firmly stuck on Mirage.  
  
“Remember what I said last nightcycle.” Knock Out growled, recognizing the look on Smokescreen’s face and his intent. “Mind the polish. Breakdown worked hard on it.”  
  
Smokescreen nodded dumbly. “I can see that. I didn’t think you could look more beautiful, clearly I was wrong,” He smirked, leaning in and caught Mirage’s lips with his own, glossa teasing against them until they opened in shock. He stiffened for a moment, then almost cautiously pulled Smokescreen closer, melting against him.  
  
“Smokescreen!” Knock Out snapped behind Smokescreen, making Mirage pull away, startled. His optics widened, like a startled cyberdeer. “No interfacing.”  
  
Smokescreen glared. “I don’t see how...”  
  
“No overloads until his spark has settled. Scrap, you are hard headed,” Knock Out growled back, making Mirage cringe away.  
  
Mirage’s cheek-plates flushed hot, mortified at the turn of the conversation. For all of the things his creators had forced him to learn he had been entirely mortified for the most of it. He ducked his head, hiding his faceplates against Smokescreen’s chest.  
  
Smokescreen chuckled, the sound vibrating through Mirage’s plating. “Fine, fine. There are many other things to do.” He smiled, looking mischievous as he caught Mirage’s lips again.  
  
“Oh for scrap’s sake, get out of my infirmary,” Knock Out glared, stomping away and bellowing for Breakdown.

 

OoOoOoOoOo

  
Mirage gave Smokescreen a sideways glance, narrowing gold optics. He was not entirely sure what the mech was going on about, nor why he was suddenly being showered with gifts. He held up the jewel Smokescreen had presented him, and looked confused. “Ah...thank you.” He opened his mouth and tried to figure out how to phrase it without sounding rude. “Er...What is it?”  
  
Smokescreen blinked at him, and then frowned, “Oh, come here. I suppose I should not be surprised they never gave you any jewelry.” Smokescreen pressed the faceted gem---which was a rich shade of blue---against the place right below Mirage’s collar plating. The bottom of the gem unfurled, forming a neck piece that hugged the edge of his collar plating, in an intricate pattern of woven, curling metal platelets.  
  
“Oh,” Mirage’s optics widened. “It’s lovely.”  
  
“Only because you make it so,” Smokescreen laughed, making a note to get other such trinkets for his bonded-to-be. If he had his way the beautiful little bot would be covered in gems, but in all reality he knew a datapad or even energon candies would be just as appreciated. “Perhaps I will get you matching wrist cuffs, that would nice.”  
  
Mirage touched the necklace, looking exasperated if anything. “You don’t need to buy me gifts, Smokescreen. I---I’m already yours. You know that.”    
  
Smokescreen frowned, as much as he wanted to hear those words, he did not want to hear them in THAT tone. “Mirage. If you really do not want me I am not going to force you into this. I love you but...”    
  
Mirage looked up, startled. “What?”  
  
“I only want you happy and safe. You act as though I own you,” Smokescreen frowned, knowing he was being fickle. The blue mech’s words just sat uneasy with him.    
  
“You never cared about giving me a choice before,” Mirage shrugged, “I don’t see how it matters at this point.”  
  
“Of course it matters,” Smokescreen said in exasperation. “Can you not imagine you would ever come to love me back?”  
  
Mirage huffed, “I’ve always loved you. I didn’t think that was ever in question.”  
  
Smokescreen blinked at him, a smile unfurling across his face. “You do?”  
  
The huff turned into a glare. “Sometimes...you are insufferable.”  
  
“But you love me for it, don’t you?” Smokescreen laughed, pulling Mirage close to him and kissing him until they were both venting hard.    
  
Mirage batted him away, his cooling fans roaring, “Knock Out said---”  
  
“I know what Knock Out said, I was there. The deca-cycle is nearly up,” Smokescreen said, pulling the noble close to him again. “And you will---”  
  
“Oh for Primus sake, yes, Smokescreen. I will bond with you,” Mirage said, throwing up his hands in exasperation.  
  
Smokescreen’s smile did not fade. In truth he found Mirage’s prickliness endearing when it did rear its head on occasion. As much as the mech wanted to please he had his rebellious moments. Smokescreen was glad that his creators had never been entirely successful at stomping that out.  
  
“Good,” Smokescreen said, holding the blue noble close. “I was hoping you would see things my way.” He nuzzled into Mirage’s neck leaving little kisses and nips in his wake.  
  
Mirage’s optics dimmed, pressing into the touch. The teasing was excruciating now that he knew the pleasure that would blossom through his system if Smokescreen would just bite a little harder. He wished he would. It was well worth Knock Out’s wrath despite any protest he made otherwise. His engine purred, running hotter. “Smokey.”  
  
Smokescreen just smiled and pulled away, his optics twinkling in amusement. “Mirage.”  
  
“It’s cruel to leave me like this.”    
  
Smokescreen laughed, “Knock Out said---”  
  
“Oh---you---you---” Mirage whimpered. “---horrible tease.”  
  
“Soon enough,” Smokescreen said, totally unprepared for the way Mirage finally flung himself at the Praxian.  
  
Mirage kissed him, pressing into Smokescreen until the back of Smokescreen’s legs hit the berth, and they tumbled onto it, Mirage still clinging like a space barnacle.  
  
Smokescreen looked up in surprise when Mirage finally ended the kiss, and pressed their forehelms together, panting. “You are horrible,” he said again, but there was a smile on his lip-plates. “But I love you for it, now...bite me already. Please.”  
  
“A sip.” Smokescreen suggested, tracing a digit along the curve of Mirage’s neck.  
  
“Or two,” Mirage countered, sighing as he was pulled down. He offlined his optics as he felt Smokescreen’s lips nibbling across the platelets, the brush of his fangs, and finally the pleasure that unfurled when they sank home. He could understand how some mechs became addicted to the sensation. Heat pooled and settled between his legs, leaving him wanting more. It was over far too soon, for Mirage’s taste.  
  
“It won’t be long, brightspark, just be patient,” Smokescreen murmured, holding Mirage close.

 

OoOoOoOoOo

  
Mirage rolled over on the berth, frowning as he found Smokescreen’s side empty. He pulled the mesh around himself, venting softly before finally getting up. He looked around the rooms, not seeing Smokescreen. He walked through into the sitting room, and frowned as he spotted that horrible mech of Knock Out’s. He stepped in closer, optics widening as he spotted Smokescreen on his other side.  
  
Smokescreen’s optics were half-lidded as he fed from the big bot’s wrist. He hummed, optics closing. He took long drags off of the mech’s energon line leaving Breakdown venting heavily.  
  
Mirage shook, an emotion he had little experience with flaring up: Jealousy.  
  
He stood in the doorway, tempted to attack Breakdown, or Smokescreen. It only lasted for a moment before his spark contracted painfully in his chest. He wasn’t even important enough to feed Smokescreen. He had long suspected. Mirage trembled, meeting Smokescreen’s gaze as he ran out the door.  
  
He heard Smokescreen calling for him, but he didn’t stop until he was in the library, in the alcove he had hid in what seemed a lifetime ago.  
  
He pulled his legs up close, hiding his face against them. He could not help but think that Smokescreen, like everyone else, would much rather have Tracks at his side. A small part of his processor knew he was being irrational, that Smokescreen didn’t want to hurt him by taking so much, and in fact, loved him very much. The larger part was outraged to see HIS Smokescreen with the large mech. In the end he curled into a tighter ball, miserable.  
  
It wasn’t long before he heard a shuffling outside of the alcove. “Mirage, get out of there and stop acting like a spoiled child. You cannot stomp off anytime something does not go your way.” Smokescreen bent down, glaring at him, his optics still ruby red with hunger.  
  
“Leave me alone,” Mirage glared back, anger and jealousy rearing it’s ugly head once more.  
  
“No,” Smokescreen said, anger rolling through his field at this point, he reached in, grabbing Mirage’s ped before he could pull away.    
  
Mirage shrieked, flailing for one moment before Smokescreen pinned his arms. “Let me go. LET ME GO.”  
  
Smokescreen ignored him, carrying him, still shrieking towards the medbay. Mirage screamed until his vocal processor was spitting static, and finally he fell silent. Smokescreen sat him on a medical berth, and glared, “You get up, and so help me Primus, you will not like what happens.”    
  
Mirage sat in sulky silence as Smokescreen found Knock Out. The red medic looked surprised by Smokescreen's presence and even less pleased by his demands then normal. “What now?”  
  
“You are going to scan his spark and clear him for us to bond.”  
  
“And if I don’t?” Knock Out asked snidely.  
  
“You will, or you will not like what happens to your finish, I can promise you that,” Smokescreen growled, stepping into the medic’s personal space.  
  
Knock Out let out a little huff, but grabbed his scanner and a datapad, he jacked into Mirage, ignoring the noble’s flinch. Knock Out read the read out, and finally had Mirage open his plating, and scanned his spark.  
“His systems are settled, now will you please vacate my medbay. I don’t have the time for---”  
  
“Yeah, get back to your primping,” Smokescreen said, plucking Mirage off the berth.  
  
Mirage blinked up at him, froze for one moment before he started struggling all over again. “Let me go, you--you glitch. You don’t even want me.”  
  
“I don’t want you? Really, Mirage. Stop throwing a little sparkling tantrum,” Smokescreen said, sounding angry. More than sounding, his optics fairly glowed with it.  
  
“No. You don’t,” Mirage offlined his optics, not wanting to look up at Smokescreen’s uncharacteristically angry faceplates. “You want someone like Tracks. Someone better.”  
  
‘Now...you are just saying stupid things.”  
  
“The truth,” Mirage keened, clawing at Smokescreen, who simply tightened his grip and strode through the doorway into his rooms. He tossed Mirage on the birth, pouncing on him before the blue mech could scramble away.  
  
“As far from the truth as you can get,” Smokescreen said, pinning Mirage’s hands over his head. He watched Mirage, optics trailing down his chassis. “I love you, no matter how foolish and wrong headed you are.” He leaned in, kissing Mirage hard. His lips demanding.    
  
Mirage went from trying to pull away to pressing against Smokescreen’s chassis. His own plating heating up, and systems he never realized he had coming online.  
  
Smokescreen released Mirage’s hand and moved down his plating, digits skitting against seams, rubbing and tweaking until Mirage was whimpering and ex-venting hard underneath him.  
  
The Praxian chuckled, his hands never stilling as they teased the blue noble into a frenzy and, finally his first overload. Mirage sprawled against the berth languidly.  
  
“No rest for you yet, lovely,” Smokescreen purred, “We have so much ground to cover, but where do I start?” He drew a digit down Mirage’s chestplates, “Here perhaps?”  
  
Mirage gasped, his optics brightening as he grabbed at bunches of the mesh beneath him.  
  
“Or maybe here?” he said, ghosting over Mirage’s interface panel. “Or maybe I should just wind you up and leave you wanting. You haven’t been a very good bot at all this sol.”  
  
“I’ll be better,” Mirage panted, “I promise. Please.” He pressed himself up into the light touch that had never quite stopped. “Please.”  
  
Smokescreen chuckled, “You don’t even know what you are asking for, do you?” He slid down, hand finding the release easy enough he opened Mirage’s interface panel and traced a digit across the seals. They were a work of art like the rest of the mech, the crystalline material glinting in the light. “It’s almost a shame to take these.” He traced one digit across the valve’s rim, and then across the spike casing.  
  
“Smokescreen,” Mirage panted, “s-stop teasing me.”  
  
The Praxian laughed, leaned in and flicked his glossa against the valve rim, across the seal until it started to give. Mirage whined beneath him, canting his hips up. “Stop, are you sure?” he finally asked, pressing a digit back against the seal until it started to tear beneath the pressure.  
  
Mirage’s whimpered at the sudden pain, and tried to pull away.  
  
Smokescreen pinned him in place, “Shhhh....I know it hurts, there is no way around it.”  
  
Mirage’s venting stuttered and then calmed as Smokescreen nuzzled into him, soothing some of the burning pain. He kissed his way up, pressing Mirage down into the berth as he settled between Mirage’s legs, hitching them up around his hips. He kissed the mech to distraction as he lined himself up and finally pushed in, passed the already perforated seal. Mirage whimpered against his lips, but he could tell the pain was less from the flair in Mirage’s field.  
  
The blue mech looked up at Smokescreen, optic’s unfocused as he finally began to move, a slow slide in and out of the too tight valve. “You are so perfect,” Smokescreen murmured against Mirage’s audial.  
  
He pulled Mirage’s hips up, changing the angle so he hit the node along the top of the valve, knowing that Mirage wasn’t going to last long. He was rewarded by the first rimple, as the valve spasmed around him, tightening nearly painfully. Smokescreen rode it out pushing Mirage through one overload and right into the next, until the blue mech fell limp beneath him.  
  
“I love you,” Mirage muttered beneath him. “So much.”  
  
“And a love you,” Smokescreen said, splaying a hand across Mirage’s supine form. “Bond with me?”  
  
Mirage squirmed, still impaled on his spike, valve clenching. “Yes.” His chestplates parted slowly, revealing the violet coloured spark beneath.  
  
Smokescreen leaned close, digit reaching out to touch the corona. He smiled at the way Mirage shivered beneath him, and finally opened his own chestplates, bathing the noble in a red light. He rocked forward, pressing hard against the ceiling node of Mirage’s valve as he brought their sparkcasings together, cornas touching and then mingling. Mirage clung to him, voice rising into a scream.    
  
Charge crackled across their frames as Smokescreen pressed the merge deeper, losing himself in Mirage’s memories. The noble flinched away at the memories of his training. He whimpered as he mentally relived the hours on end of being tied in one position, his begging to be released ignored, or worse still beaten until he did not dare even cry out. Smokescreen pulled him away from those memories, soothing his spark with love, and for once he believed Smokescreen’s professions of love. He could do nothing else when he was so surrounded in it, soothed by it until he lost himself, and finally the bond snapped into place, the strength of it pushing them both over the edge.

 

OoOoOoOoOo

  
Mirage came out of recharge, feeling Smokescreen’s spark pulsing against his, he could feel it even against his now closed sparkplates. He curled closer, imagining that he would feel it still even a planet away.  
  
Smokescreen tightened his arms around Mirage, “Recharge well?”  
  
Mirage only hmm’ed, he was sore still, but it was a pleasant kind of sore. He could not even bring himself to really care about the scuffs or state of his plating. He stretched against Smokescreen, tweaking the bond, and smiling at the feel of it.  
  
Smokescreen purred in approval, “Ready for more? I’m not done with you yet.”  
  
Mirage laughed, his spark feeling light, “I would hope you will never be through with me.”    
  
“Never,” Smokescreen agreed, sitting up, he took Mirage with him. “Always mine.”  
  
Mirage leaned back against him, legs spread wide on the outside of Smokescreen’s. His vent’s hitched, feeling Smokescreen’s spark pulsing against his spinal strut. His panel snicked open a moment after Smokescreen’s, his bonded’s intent pulsing through the bond.  
  
Smokescreen’s digits dug into Mirage’s hip seams as he lifted Mirage up, settling the valve opening over his spike he let go, letting gravity do the work. Mirage gasped, the calipers inside his valve working frantically to adjust to to the stretch. He panted, gasped, and then gasped louder as Smokescreen teased the seal over his spike casing until his spike finally extended, tearing through the seal. It hurt much less, and the pain was completely forgotten when Smokescreen gripped it, hands tracing down the ridges. Tracing across the black and silver rings that wound their way up the blue mech’s spike. Teasing it until Mirage keened, valve clenching around the spike inside of him as his own spurted transfluid against his own plating. Smokescreen smirked behind him, waiting until Mirage fell limp against him before starting to move again. They fell into a slow rhythm, the charge building slowly, cracking against their plating.  
  
Smokescreen circled his hips, hitting the ceiling node with each slow thrust, drawing it out. His bonded made the most interesting noises, whining and begging him to go faster. If anything it had the opposite effect. He drew it out as long as he could, nuzzling his nasal ridge against Mirage’s neck plating before sinking his fangs in. He drank deeply, wringing as many cries from Mirage as he could before they fell over the precipice together.  
  
Afterwards, Mirage curled against him, warm and smug. His field pressed against his bonded’s, mingling, reaching out farther until it was impossible to distinguish the two.

 

OoOoOoOoOo

  
The next night sol found Smokescreen rising early, albeit reluctantly, only to find Mirage had long since came out of recharge and was talking to a little mechling that Smokescreen did not recognize. The Praxian frowned, approaching them, a scowl on his face. They had ways to deal with intruders, none of them pleasent, but the look on Mirage’s faceplates stilled his hand.  
  
Smokescreen looked at the mechling that had snuck down into their subterranean home. He shook, holding out the package. “H-h-he said to only give it to you.”  
  
Smokescreen frowned, not liking any of the situation. He would have already sent Mirage away...had he thought the mech would really go to their rooms and not just sneak away to get up to some mischief.  
  
The mechling offered the box he had been holding to Smokescreen, his hands shaking. He flinched away when Smokescreen took the box. “Who sent you?”  
  
“L-lord H-h-hook,” the mechling whimpered cringing away.    
  
If anything Smokescreen’s frown deepened, which only made the youngling whimper again, fear clear in his faceplates. “He---He said to tell you he wants w-what is his.”  
  
Smokescreen opened the box, and did not stop Mirage from seeing the finger inside. It was a distinct shade of blue that the noblebot would have known everywhere.  
  
“Tracks. He has my brother,” Mirage said dully. “I will have to go to Hook or he will kill him.”     
  
“You aren’t going anywhere, I have no doubt he would kill you the minute he found out we bonded. No, Mirage,” Smokescreen said angrily, his tone making the youngling cry out, and flinch away. Smokescreen frowned, his gaze settling on the youngling again. “I am not going to hurt you, but I’m afraid I cannot let you leave.”  
  
“Please don’t kill me, Hook has my friend. He will hurt him if I don’t return,” the red mechling pleaded.  
  
“He will hurt him regardless, do you think that bot will not kill you both the minute you return, or use you in his experiments. No, Barricade is coming. He will find a use for you.”  
  
“No, please. He will kill Red Alert. Please don’t.”    
  
Smokescreen sighed, knowing Barricade was on his way, he had called out for his brother with his mind as soon as he had seen the box. His optics followed Mirage for a moment, not liking the closed look on Mirage’s faceplates, or the way he slammed the bond closed. “You will not be hurt,” he repeated, and looked relieved when Barricade finally came through the door.    
  
“What is your name, youngling?” The black bot frowned, noting how small the mechling was. Nearly one third of the size a truckbot would be at his apparent stage of growth.    
  
“Inferno,” he said, optics widening as he took in the black Praxian. If anything he was far more scary looking than Smokescreen, but his field was calm and serene as it finally touched Inferno.  
  
“Come with me, Inferno. We’ll get you cleaned up and a place to recharge.” Barricade lead the mechling away, turning him towards the hall to the medbay.  
  
Smokescreen vented softly as his brother left, and finally turned to Mirage. “Get whatever stupid idea you have gotten into your processor out now. You are not going to that monster.”  
  
Mirage shook, “He has my brother.”  
  
“And I will get the glitch away from him, but I will not allow you to hurt yourself,” Smokescreen said.  
  
Mirage knew from his tone that he wouldn’t listen to any argument the blue noble might come up with. Mirage only scowled back, becoming more angry by the second.  
  
“Please, stop looking at me like that, Mirage. You know I only have your best interests at spark, and besides...I spoke with Prowl at the beginning of the night cycle. He will be having Bluestreak’s debut, three night cycles from now. We are expected to attend. Prowl has demanded it. Tracks will have to keep until then, I fear.”  
  
“I will not.” Mirage gasped out, backing away, but he was not fast enough. Smokescreen grabbed him, pulling him close. “You will, and you will like it.” He kissed the now struggling mech, holding him close until he stilled. “Please, sweetspark, keeping Prowl happy is important.”    
  
Mirage vented softly against him. “But...”  
  
“No buts, as much as I hate to admit it Prowl controls our fates. He could end me. He could send me away again.” He brushed a digit against Mirage’s cheek. “You understand this?”  
  
“But my brother...”  
  
“Will keep. Hook will not kill him out of hand when his real aim is for you.” Smokescreen pressed their helms together. “And then we will end this. I should have destroyed him before. What is done is done, though.”    
  
Mirage offlined his optics, huffing. He would do it, but he didn’t have to like it.

 

OoOoOoOoOo

  
Smokescreen watched his brother approach from across the hall, obviously wound up, his intended trailing behind him looking overwhelmed. “Smokescreen---I was not aware you were back.” Prowl’s optics drifted past Smokescreen to Mirage, a frown marring his face. Smokescreen did not like the calculating look there, it never boded well for anyone, and he knew Prowl was still sore about the problems that letting Mirage stay had caused.  
  
“I’ve been busy, but it was not like I would have missed this,” Smokescreen said smiling brilliantly at Prowl’s soft spot---Bluestreak. “You must be Blue, I’ve heard a lot about you.”  
  
“Oh...you have?” the grey Praxian shifting from ped to ped, looking nervous. “I have...heard very little about you.”  
  
Smokescreen laughed, and pulled Mirage close to him, “And this is my bondmate, Mirage. I am sure you will get on well,” he made himself smile and meet his brother’s optics.  
  
“I am sure we will. It was nice meeting you finally, but I think we have other guests to greet,” Bluestreak said, clearly ready to move on, and Prowl seemed just as eager to go. Smokescreen heaved a vent in relief as his brother disappeared with the little Praxian.  
  
“He did not seem happy to see you, or me here.” Mirage said, his scowl deepening.  
  
“No, he’s not happy with me. Or...with my choice in mates, I’m sorry. I think he thought...I’m not even sure what he thought,” Smokescreen said, his tone shaky. “I have never been the favoured brother. I think he thought since I was unattached for so long that he could have bonded me off to someone that would give him a political advantage.”  
  
“You ruined his plans,” Mirage’s optics shifted to Smokescreen’s faceplates.  
  
“Many times over,” Smokescreen shrugged, “I doubt it will be the last time either. It was worth it this time, at least.”  
  
Mirage leaned into him. “When this is over, can we go after my brother. Please.”  
  
Smokescreen shook his head. “I don’t want you anywhere near that mech.”  
  
“I am not a child. I can protect myself,” Mirage snapped, nearly pulling away when Smokescreen grabbed him and pulled him close.  
  
“I know you are,” Smokescreen soothed, “But I am your bondmate. Let me do this for you.” He led Mirage through the crowded hall to one of the secluded alcoves and pulled the smaller mech into his lap once he had sat. “Let me keep you safe, please.”  
  
Mirage made a sound of protest, which only lasted until Smokescreen nuzzled the blue noble’s neck plating. His venting stuttered and he tilted his head to the side offering the silver expanse to Smokescreen.  
  
Smokescreen knew that they should be socializing, but he could not help himself where Mirage was concerned. He nibbled, and nipped, taking a single long draw before pulling away. He did not expect the frenetic kiss that followed, or the way Mirage ground their interface panels together in obvious need. He had not realized the smaller mech was running so hot, or on the verge of having lubricant drip from his once closed panel. He wasted no time once it snicked open to sink into the warm, wet valve. It was just as intense as it had been the night cycle before, but Mirage urged him on this time, pushing his hips down as he rode the spike.  
  
Smokescreen couldn't help but appreciate the clever little bot he bonded to, when he could think, Mirage was making that nearly impossible though, valve rippling and tightening with each slick stroke. He clung and moaned, nuzzling against Smokescreen’s audial.  
  
“Love you,” the blue mech chanted, “so much. More than anything.” His denta scraped across Smokescreen’s neck plating, and the Praxian finally came undone. Clasping Mirage’s hips as transfluid burst out into the tight valve, hitting the ceiling node with enough pressure to send Mirage into a cascading overload.  
  
They clung together, venting heavily in the dimly lit alcove.  Smokescreen smiled, half-dazed. He had not expected Mirage to catch on quite so fast. “I love you too. Primus, do I ever love you.”  
  
Mirage chuckled against him, holding him tightly, mindless of the mess they had made. “Again?”    
  
“I think...I have created a monster,” Smokescreen smiled, more amused than anything.  
  
“You are complaining?” Mirage teased, pulling away only to lean back in for a kiss.    
  
“No, never,” Smokescreen purred, hands moving down Mirage’s plating. The faint strains of the music beyond met his audials, but it was easy enough to tune out, and the idea of getting caught just added to the excitement. “Turn around,” he smirked, mech-handling Mirage until his back was pressed against Smokescreen’s chest. He lifted the blue mech, impaling him again, and set a languid pace, determined to make Mirage cry out.  
  
Smokescreen’s hands wandered down, brushing against Mirage’s spike, across the anterior node. Tweaking it until Mirage was on the cusp of overload again, and then backing up, leaving Mirage hanging there, charge not quite high enough to push him into overload.  
  
Mirage whimpered, and then keened loudly, dragging himself down on Smokescreen’s spike harder chasing his own overload, only to stop just as suddenly as he realized they were being watched by the same mech from earlier. Barricade.  
  
“Brother, you pick an odd time for this sort of thing,” Barricade said, his optics roaming down Mirage’s chassis, lingering.    
  
Smokescreen stilled, and then glared, his hands curling possessively around Mirage. “Go away, Barricade.”  
  
Barricade tutted, “What, you don’t want to share? You were always much more giving in the past, as I recall.”  
  
“That was different,” Smokescreen hissed, turning so Mirage was partially guarded from Barricade’s sight. “He is my bondmate. I would never have asked you to share Crys, ever,” he growled, optics taking on more and more red until their normal gold hue was completely drowned out.  
  
Barricade backed up a step, frowning. “Perhaps you should ask him?”  
  
A growl rose from deep in Smokescreen’s chest.  
  
“Please stop this,” Mirage moaned, valve spasming around the spike still impaling him. “Please. I need---I need---” he gasped, wiggling and then rolling his hips until the spike pressed hard against the ceiling node, scrapping it. His valve clamped down hard as the overload finally ripped through his system. Smokescreen muffled his scream with a kissed, still glaring at Barricade. Mirage fell back limply against him, offlined for the moment.  
  
“Was he that loud at the brothel you got him from? I’m surprised they gave up such a prize.” Barricade said, optics half-lidded.  
  
Smokescreen lunged, growling, only half mindful of Mirage’s limp body falling to the floor. He ripped into Barricade’s plating, drawing energon.  
  
Mirage came to himself, frowning as he tried to make sense of why he was sprawled across the floor, and more importantly why Smokescreen was tearing into his brother, the two rolling about the ground.  
  
“Smokey...Smokey.” He finally shouted, getting Smokescreen’s attention off of his brother. “Stop it. I don’t think this is the place for whatever that is...and besides....I’m tired. Just take me to berth please.”    
  
Smokescreen disentangled himself from Barricade, who just flopped onto the floor. Tucked his and Mirage’s equipment behind their respective panels, and scooped his bonded up. “Don’t think you will be so lucky next time, brother.”

 

OoOoOoOoOo

  
Mirage waited until Smokescreen was deep in recharge, the day cycle well started, before he went to find the little mechling who had brought the message from Hook.    
  
He finally found the mechling curled up with a cube of energon watching one if the vid screens in the common room. He was wide opticed, perhaps in shock.  
  
“You are Inferno, right?” he said softly, setting next to the small mechling.  
  
“Yeah,” he hunched in on himself. “You are the bot from yesterday, the one with the scary one.”  
  
“Mirage, yes,” Mirage smiled at the description of Smokescreen. “Can you tell me about your friend? I’m going to try to get him back for you. Just...don’t tell anyone I’ve gone, okay?”  
  
The mechling nodded, “Red Alert is smaller than I am, and red. He’s sick, always has had a glitch. He gets too excited and he glitches. It’s horrible, and I’m so scared for him. That...that mech hurts bots.”  
  
“I know he does, he has my brother too. I’ll get them back.” He smiled, patting the little bot on the shoulder and heading back to the door. He had a plan...sort of.  
  
He made his way back to the rooms he shared with Smokescreen, grabbing the electro disruptor, and one of Smokescreen’s energon blade before slipping back out, the elector disruptor engaged before he hit the door.

 

OoOoOoOoOo

  
The compound that the Constructicons lived in was easy enough to find. One of the grander estates on the edge of the city proper. It was easy enough to slip inside, unfortunately it was just as sprawling as Prowl’s estate under the city. It took him a joor to find the lab and the area where his brother and the little bot were being kept. Tracks was hunched in the corner of one large cage, curled up, looking miserable and cradling one hand against his chest. The little red mechling was curled up in a much smaller cage, bright blue optics darted across the room. Mirage disengaged the electro-disruptor, and put a finger to his lips as he met the little mechs gaze.  
  
Mirage searched the room frantically, looking for the key, only to be interrupted by a rumbling laugh, “I knew you would come.”  
  
Mirage froze, shoulders hunching. The mech towered over him, his green plating glinting eerily in the low light.  
  
“Let my brother go,” he finally managed to get out, his vocalizer going to static from fear.     
  
Hook looked him up and down, leering, “I don’t think I will. He’s as good for spare parts as the mechling.” He lunged at Mirage, grabbing one arm and pulling him close. “And you. I had not anticipated you would look quite this...scrumptious after your upgrade. Perhaps, I will even take a taste before I remove your spark.”  
  
Mirage whimpered as he was pulled deeper into the room, to a medical berth that he had not previously noticed. He gasped in horror at the sight before him. The mech lying out on the table did not look...right. As if it was a mix of many different mechs, and with dawning horror Mirage realized that was exactly what it was. ““What have you done?”  
  
“They were imperfect,” Hooks said dismissively. “Just as you are.” The unsettling red optics glinted through the visor, watching Mirage, “But that will change soon enough.”  
  
Mirage gasped as he was thrown to the floor. It stunned him for a moment, long enough for Hook to press him down, ripping away the small bot’s interface panel. He screamed, loud and high, his vision whiting out.  
  
He didn’t come back to himself until he felt the blunt hard tip of Hook’s spike pressing into him. He screamed again, in fury this time. Hook’s sparkplate’s were open, and his own a ripped apart. He squirmed, and tried to scramble away, when that didn’t work he finally reached into his subspace, grabbing the energon blade. He stabbed upward, over and over through Hook’s spark, into the energon line in the bot’s neck, until the mech moved off of him, trashing.  
  
Mirage scrambled away, optics wide as the lumbering form of what could only be Hook’s brother came into the room, and fell on their brother, ripping into his plating. Mirage had heard stories of zombie mechs, but he had never seen any until that moment. He could not understand how someone could do that to their own kin, but he didn’t dwell on it, instead he moved across the room, ignoring his own pain, and sliced through the locks holding Tracks and Red Alert. His brother watched him with confused optics. Mirage vented, “We have to get out of here before they tire of him,” he said glancing back at the zombie mechs.  
  
Red Alert clung to Mirage as they hurried to the door. The noble ended up scooping up the sparkling, holding him tightly as they ran. They could hear the zombies on their heels, their pace slow, but steady, and they only just made it out of the door before the heavy-footed zombie mechs.    
  
They moved slowly towards the gated entrance, nearly running into Smokescreen, who appeared to be in a state beyond frantic.  
  
“What the frag are you doing? You could have been offlined.” He stopped, took a look at the state Mirage was an and gasped.  
  
“Just get me home.” Mirage said, carefully setting Red Alert to his peds before he fell to the ground, fainting from the pain.

 

OoOoOoOoOo

  
Mirage came online in the medbay, Smokescreen hovering over him like some angry cyhawk over a hatchling. He still ached all over, nothing repaired clearly, and he wasn’t surprised with the way Smokescreen was growling. He winced, shifting, “I think you either need to leave or move over and let Knock Out work on me, Smokey. He can’t help me with you---doing--whatever this is,” Mirage croaked, wincing inwardly at the sound of his own voice.  
  
“You wouldn't need repaired if you hadn’t---” Smokescreen began angrily.  
  
“But I did, and I hurt,” Mirage said, forcing himself to sit, he watched Knock Out, who was on the other side of the room, looking Tracks over. Red Alert and Inferno were curled up on the last medical berth both deep in recharge, clinging together.  
  
“He’s right you know. I’m not touching him until you move out of the way,” Knock Out called from the other side of the room.  
  
Smokescreen huffed, stepping away, and then turned to leave the room, “Fine. call me when he is done then,” he said, glaring daggers at Knock Out as he left.  
  
Mirage fell back onto the berth, offlining his optics as Knock Out finally approach. “Anything I should check for, aside from the obvious?”  
  
“Besides the chestplates and the interface cover? Isn’t that enough?” Mirage vented. “He might have damaged the rim of my valve he---tried to---”  
  
Knock Out nodded, his field flaring out, soothing for once as he injected a sedative into Mirage’s lines, and for the second time that day the world went black.

 

OoOoOoOoOo

  
He came out of the medically forced recharge in his own berth, clean, the mesh tucked around him, and Hugs tucked under one arm. He smiled up at Smokescreen, who crossed the room as soon as he realized Mirage was online.  
  
“How are you feeling,” he asked softly.  
  
“Like an Omega stomped on me,” Mirage said, his lips curling into an amused smile.  
  
Smokescreen nodded, and sat on the edge of the berth, scooting over until he was laying against Mirage, his arms pulling the noblebot close. “Don’t ever do that again. I nearly had a spark attack when you turned up missing. Please. I love you but I can’t take that again.”    
  
“I had to save them. He was going to use them for parts,” Mirage said softly. “Where is my brother?”  
  
“Ultra Magnus came to get him a joor ago.”  
  
“I was offline that long?” Mirage’s lip quivered. “And the mechlings?”  
  
“One of Prowl’s fledglings took them in, Firestar. She lives here, so I’m sure you can see them when you are better. Knock Out said for you to rest while your system is repairing itself,” Smokescreen said, venting softly. “Hook didn’t...he didn’t---”  
  
“Knock Out didn’t tell you? No, he didn’t. He tried to, but I---I stabbed him,” Mirage said, burying his face against Smokescreen’s chestplates. “It was horrible. That thing he made, so many offlined mechs. It was horrible.”  
  
Smokescreen held him tightly, rubbing his spinal strut. He had sorely underestimated Mirage it would seem, his fragile crystal blossom was not half as fragile as he believed. He had the tensile strength of steel inside. Smokescreen could not help but admire the mech more for it. “I’m glad you are safe now, love.”  
  
“As glad as I am to be safe,” Mirage said, suddenly exhausted. He offlined his optics again, letting himself drift back into recharge.

OoOoOoOoOo

  
Mirage looked in the mirror watching Breakdown paint the scrolling silver sigils across his plating with far more patience then he would have credited the lumbering bot with.  
  
“Hold still,” Knock Out snipped, glaring as he polished the jewelry that would be placed on Mirage once Breakdown was finished.  
  
It was a long process, and Mirage wondered, for the millionth time, how exactly they had gotten roped into it. He supposed his bonded was a rather persuasive mech. The thought made him smile.  
  
“There.” Breakdown moved away, and brought over a portable dryer. “Just stay there while it cures, otherwise we will have to start all over again. The look on his face told Mirage how he felt about that idea.  
  
Mirage was half in recharge when Knock Out finally pulled him out from under the dryer and started attaching the jewelry to his armour. It was old and intricate pieces, a set that had been clearly made in Smokescreen’s younth. It spoke of wealth, and royalty. Mirage was humbled by it. The gemstones set in the intricately scrolling metal twinkled in the light, changing colors as Mirage shifted. Fire opals, if Mirage was not mistaken.  
  
Then the last bit was magnetized Knock Out stepped back, surveying his work. He went back, to his work area, grabbing a great swath of cloth. White with gold trim, and moved towards Mirage. He could not have said he had ever seen that much organic fibers in one place. It was dearly prized, and not something his family could have afforded even before they had been in dire financial straights. Energon rushed to his cheeks as Knock Out put it around his hips, fastening it in place with jeweled clasps much the same as the jewels already covering his chassis.  
  
“Smokescreen is waiting,” Knock Out finally said, clearly pleased with his work. “And...unless I miss my mark the guests will be arriving soon.”    
  
The red mech led him to where Smokescreen was waiting patiently, decorated in much the same manner. The sigils emblazoned in gold across his form, his loin cloth black and gold. His lips curled into a brilliant smile, “You look...beautiful.”  
  
Mirage vented softly, “So do you. Are you ready?”  
  
“As I will ever be,” Smokescreen winked, took Mirage’s hand in his own, and led him through the foyer into the great hall.  
  
Mirage was still astounded. He had not thought they would ever have a party to celebrate their bonding, certainly not something this extravagant.  
  
Prowl was the first to greet them, dressed in similar finery, Bluestreak a step behind him, a less than happy shadow. For once there was not a scowl on his faceplates, and he looked pleased to be there as he was to take his brother’s hand in his own.  
  
The nightcycle went by in a blur. Mirage lost count of how many bots wished him well, how many cubes of highgrade was pushed into his hands by well wishers, and how many gifts were presented by those same bots. He could not seem to wipe the smile from his face all night, though. He could never remember being so happy as he was then, in that place, with Smokescreen. Even his childhood hopes and dreams paled by comparison. When all was said and done he was content to be carried away by Smokescreen, long after all the guests had left and it was just the two of them again.  
  
He fell into recharge in his bonded’s arms content in the knowledge there would be many more nights to come. Perhaps even eternity.


End file.
